


Temper, Temper

by Morgana



Series: Spike's Seven Deadly Sins [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-27
Updated: 2011-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His mother had always warned William about his temper, and for good reason, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temper, Temper

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 7_deadly_sins challenge at LJ - Wrath

Mother always warned him about his temper. When he was younger, it took very little to set him off, and he'd come home with his clothes torn and bloody on more than one occasion, usually because he'd attacked three or four of the local bullies when he'd discovered them teasing Cook's little girl about her lack of a father. Unfortunately, he lacked the facility with his fists to support the heated words that seemed to flow so easily from his tongue in those situations, so he was generally the one to take the brunt of the beating that inevitably followed.

As he grew to manhood, William learned to bridle his temper as best he could, to channel his heated thoughts into his studies and tamp down on his more violent urges. But every so often, the injustices around him would prove too great to bear, and he'd loose his temper, giving vent to it in a flurry of stinging words. It was almost worth the pain and bloody noses when he saw his barbs hit home.

That was how he came to fall in love with words, when he learned about the power he could wield, the way they could slice into someone as sharply as a sword and leave wounds deeper than any blade could inflict. He told Mother it was about expressing love and beauty, but it was the offensive power that truly called to him, the sense that words could offer him a chance to bring the bullies of the world down to size if he could only learn to truly master them. Beauty and love could come later, or so he'd always believed. Then he'd met a pair of vampire and discovered that he'd never truly understood anything at all.

His sheltered little world hadn't prepared him for the wider one that lay beyond his doorstep, where only the strong survived, their supremacy and rule hammered out with their fists. Here, words were invitations for more beatings, and the little power William had ever known was stripped from him with one unhesitating backhand from Angelus. His sire didn't hesitate to drive home the lessons his mother and tutors had failed to teach, and William did his best to prove an apt pupil, although Angelus made no secret of the fact that he found him even more worthless a vampire than he had been a human.

That's why William didn't bother to tell anyone where he was going when he decided he'd finally had enough. He would leave Angelus, he told himself, strike out on his own and fend for himself, seek out some corner of the world where he wouldn't have to fear Angelus' wrath or withstand his blows any longer. And to celebrate, he'd gone down to the local pub for a drink or two.

All right, it had ended up being three bottles' worth of drinks. But independence was something that had to be properly toasted, his decision one that needed a good deal of lubrication to help it go down. And when one of the rough dockhands had called him a worthless aristocrat with a pretty face, William hadn't even thought before he'd sniped at him, shot back with one of the insults that had so often enraged Angelus. It'd had a similar effect on the human, too - his chair had clattered to the floor with how fast he shot to his feet.

For a second, William braced himself for the beating that was coming. The man glared at him and dared him to repeat his words, and like an idiot, William did. That was all that was needed for the human to charge at him, reminding William of the stories Professor Miles used to tell about his safari to Africa, where his camp had been attacked by an enraged rhinoceros. Indeed, the bull of a man that came at William was built much like one of those creatures, heavy through the chest and shoulders, so it was a shock when one swing of William's fist dropped him to the floor and left him writhing in pain.

As though that had been a signal, the man's friends got to their feet and turned to him, and William looked from the man at his feet to them, barely able to do more than blink before they were coming for him as well. He meant to get out of there, meant to turn and get away, but somehow he ended up in the thick of the brawl, his fists flying as years of pent-up fury came surging out of him and he vented it all on the hapless humans who'd thought him such easy prey.

It felt good. Cleansing. Wholesome, even. For once, he didn't have to mind his temper or watch himself. For once, he was the one people feared, the one who could lash out and strike back. He was the one in charge. The worm had turned now. And William was going to make sure it didn't turn back. He wasn't going to be that sniveling little nancy boy ever again, wasn't going to bow down and grovel when he could stand tall and fight for himself.

No, not William. William was a pathetic ponce that worried about controlling his temper and doing what Mother had taught him. He wasn't that whiny mama's boy anymore; he was someone new, someone strong and powerful, and he was going to make sure everyone remembered that. A glint of metal caught his attention, and a quick rifle through one of the downed human's pockets provided him with a new weapon, a perfect answer to everyone that had ever thought him weak and worthless. Twirling the railroad spike in his hand, he smiled as he remembered the twerp at that party who'd said he'd prefer a spike through the head to his words. Time to give him what he wanted - and show them all what the vampire that used to be William was capable of now.


End file.
